So Fabio Capello has made a start - unspectacular, perhaps, with narrow victory over opposition who reminded us that Switzerland's legitimate reputation is linked with the manufacture of cuckoo clocks and banking other people's money rather than producing football teams, but a start of some impact all the same, a start that reminded some of the manager England should have had years ago but were too afraid to appoint.

Several have mentioned how Capello's style has reminded them of Brian Clough. It is easy to imagine the way Old Big 'Ead would have gone about the job if only the FA had not run scared and rejected him following his interview in 1977. It is easy to scoff and yet I must say that, yes, there are distinct signs and reminders of the extraordinary old maestro who performed his wonders with Derby County and Nottingham Forest - particularly off the field.

So many eyebrows continue to be raised and doubts expressed about Capello's team selection. First there was the omission of David Beckham from the original squad of 30, despite the popular view that the former captain should be afforded the honour of receiving his 100th cap, then the assignment of the nation's leading goalscorer Michael Owen to the substitutes' bench, where he was to spend the Italian's first match in charge. Clough would have done precisely the same. Indeed, Capello's demotion of the two was small beer compared with Clough's actions prior to Nottingham Forest's first European Cup final in 1979.

His limited squad already disrupted by injuries, Clough also had lingering doubts about the fitness of Martin O'Neill and Archie Gemmill. He later recalled: "Had it been left to them, they would have played. To be fair, when he is faced with the opportunity of playing in a European final, a player could be tempted to lie. They both said they were OK but I decided they were both out. You don't take risks in matches of that magnitude." Forest, you may remember, won that final and retained the European Cup a year later.

In his eyes there would have been nothing controversial about Capello's treatment of Beckham and Owen. Beckham had not played proper football for months and Owen was still pursuing match fitness in an extremely ordinary Newcastle side. In any case for once we had an England manager using a friendly for its intended purpose - trial and experiment. This, after apparently adding strict new rules, calling players by their surnames and leaving Rio Ferdinand reflecting that it was a "bit like being back at school".

There seems to be a refreshing sense of uncertainty about the new set-up. It is not fear exactly but, like Clough, Capello appears to believe in keeping a margin between himself and the players. Those who played for Clough will tell you they never quite knew where they stood. The man himself dismissed any notion that he ruled by fear, saying: "If my players had any sense of fear, they couldn't have won two European Cups. If anything, I ruled by relaxation."

That was pretty much the way he approached the first final in Munich. On the coach journey to the stadium he and his players drank a beer or two: "Just another instance of the way we created a relaxed mood rather than have a coachload of uptight footballers worried sick about the 90 minutes coming up." Who knows if Clough would have been successful as manager of England? But, my goodness, it would have been fun.

Had he been alive today, he would have been reminding us of the stupidity of the FA in its support of the Premier League's absurd suggestion of playing a 39th match in some far-flung country - all in the interests of greed. He always said that his first move as England manager would have been to install his team at the front of the aircraft for away matches, the press next "and the daft buggers from the FA right at the back, out of the way, where they belong. 'Cos I don't like talking football to those who know nowt about it." The men who pay Capello £6m a year for his trouble can continue to rest easily.

But there were those prepared to stand up to Clough such as the new apprentice who answered the dressing-room telephone one afternoon at the City Ground to hear the unmistakable voice saying: "I'd like a cup of tea brought to my office. Now." The kid's reply was stunning, even to Clough: "Then get it yerself." "Young man," Cloughie snarled, "have you any idea who you're talking to?"